Nostalgia

I'm having a hard time coming to terms with getting older. I like that I'm through the period of trying to figure out who I am. I don't miss that part of my revolting youth - the struggle, the search, the confusion, the pessimism. I like knowing who I am and what I need. I like being mature and responsible, in theory. And I don't even mind the wrinkles. But I miss the firsts. I miss the open-ended possibilities. I miss wondering what might be...

Lately I've been watching old movies. Not movies that I'm proud of loving like Godard and French new wave or classic Bergman. No, I've been watching John Hughes, Cameron Crowe and Emile Ardolino. Would you know Ardolino if I said, "No one puts Baby in the corner."? Like I said, I'm not proud. But these movies came out when I was on the cusp of being a teenager. When I was right on the edge of my first kiss. When my idea of romantic love wasn't yet ruined by the realities of teenage relationships. Some Kind of Wonderful rocked me at 12 years old. I was so inspired I asked for a drumset for my next birthday. I watched with the anticipation that at some point in my life I would know what it felt like to love without hesitation. To feel the stabbing pain of watching the love of your life chase after someone else. It was something I hadn't yet known. But somehow, at 12, I knew I would be that girl, the girl who would love and be hurt. And I was, many times over.

Dirty Dancing offered the idea that if you were in the right place at the right time, you too could become a professional dancer. And at 12, after a few years of ballet, tap and jazz with Louis McKay, there was nothing I wanted more. A friend asked me recently, "Was Patrick Swayze really a sex symbol? Since when was dancing like that considered masculine?" I have to admit, I still think Patrick Swayze is hot in those dance scenes. It's super sexy to watch men who can dance, dance. But more than that, I was inspired that maybe, someday, someone would see my hidden talents and want to bring them to light.

And Say Anything. I'm still waiting for someone to stand outside of my bedroom with a ghetto blaster. That's real love. But instead of Peter Gabriel they might play me a little Marvin Gaye.

The point is, I'm not the person I was when I first watched these movies. I'm not an awkward 12 year old (thank god). I'm not hoping to become a professional dancer, I didn't kiss my best guy-friend in junior high because he didn't like me like that, and considering it could be tough to even find a ghetto blaster in 2010, I don't think I will hear Peter Gabriel wafting through my bedroom window anytime soon. There will never be another first kiss, first crush or first love. Knowing that makes watching these movies hard for me. It creates this odd nostalgia for all of those things. It reminds me of what I wanted at 12, of what I thought I might be. I remember that feeling of endless possibilities.

I'm not complaining. I love my love story. It's better than all of those movies. But I can't wrap my head around this weird nostalgia. Maybe it's because I'm not looking forward in the same way that I did at 12, I'm not anticipating things that have never happened. I'm still hopeful and excited about what's to come, but most likely, it's not going to be something I haven't experienced before. This is a new feeling, I've never been on this side of life. I've never been old before. When the fashions you grew up with become retro, when 'rad' comes back for the second time, when you think back to the time when you rushed home to see if there was a message on your answering machine, when people wrote letters with a pen and paper, when I wondered what that first kiss would be like; there's something I miss about all of that. And it's only going to get stranger as I watch my little boy grow up in the 21st century; as I become a part of the old school and less relevant.

I have to embrace the wisdom that comes with old age. I have to remember that I can still revel in inspiring moments no matter how old I am. I have to brag about being a child of the seventies because I got to experience all the awful, I mean awesome, things about the eighties. Now it's time to look forward to seeing Luca experience all of his firsts with stars in his eyes. It's a new phase and I guess the truth is, it really is another first.